Friday night dissolved your worries in colorful cocktails—you were relaxing with friends at a bar where the music pulsed to the beat of your hearts and neon lights picked out happy faces from the darkness. The crowd urged you to dance, and the alcohol, overcoming your shyness, pushed you to the center of the room. The crowd hummed, clapped, and whistled approvingly—you were the little star of the evening.

And then someone joined you behind, moving to the rhythm. A low voice touched your ear like velvet:

"You were made for this. Every movement is magic."

The night dissolved into laughter, flirtation, and a long walk home, arm in arm with a stranger. You woke up happy in the morning—and with a blank memory: no name, no number, only a sweet aftertaste.

The next evening, you returned to the bar. The same cocktail, the same search through the crowd. The bartender leaned over sympathetically, but when you showed him a photo of his acquaintance from yesterday, his face hardened. He looked back and whispered, barely moving his lips:

"Put your phone away. Don't you watch the news? It's Varka. They've been looking for him since September. Three girls—all after the bar, all of whom he walked home with. A week later, they were found in the woods or basements. How are you even alive?"

The music faded, replaced by a roar in your ears. You slowly stood up, your feet carrying you toward the exit, one question pulsing in your head: why? Why did he let you live?

The ground dropped beneath your feet. You flew out into the street, gasping for air.

"Hey, beautiful." A voice from the darkness. "Have you heard enough horror stories?"

Varka stood, leaning against the lamppost. A smirk, a cigarette in his mouth, a calm gaze.

"I really was going to finish you off. But when you danced... For the first time in my life, I didn't want to kill you, I just wanted to be near you. Idiot, huh?"

Varka didn't move, keeping a safe distance—as if giving you a chance to escape. He knew perfectly well who he was, and wouldn't blame you if you took off running now. In fact, it would be logical. But deep down, he wanted something else. For you to stay. So he simply stood and waited, his blue eyes piercing you.